


eggplant vs peach: battle royale

by alexanger



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: Alex sexts John at work. John enjoys the emojis a little too much.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluecarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/gifts).



John is at work when the first text comes. He’s almost six hours into his twelve-hour shift, and when he opens his phone to see a wyd? from Alex, he’s already exhausted enough to be snappy.

_What do you think Im doing_ he texts back, flat, noncommittal.

And that’s when Alex fires off: _im touching myself are you helping or not_

Oh. Well, that’s an entirely different story, then.

He ducks out of the bathroom - there no hospital policies about checking your phone in the bathroom (at least, not yet) - and gets to the nurses station before any of his patients can flag him down.

“Hey,” he says to his super. “I need to get some food in me, mind if I run up to the machines for a snack? I’m pretty solidly on top of all my patients.”

“If you’re not overloaded, you’re not doing enough,” she says, glancing away from her charts just long enough to scan him. “Go, but when you get back, we’ve got a frequent flyer asking for narcotics.”

“Got it,” he says. It’s not uncommon to pass off the regulars to him - besides being “absolutely shredded,” according to Alex (who may be a little biased), he’s also a lot more patient and less jaded than some of his coworkers.

But right now, patience with his patients has gone out the window. He has a hot little piece texting him, his phone is burning in his pocket, and there’s a situation happening with regard to blood flow and turgidity - so he hightails it to a little single-stall bathroom up near palliative care. Emergency room bathrooms are always gross; there’s just never enough time to clean them, and God, does John pity the people who have to try and keep on top of that mess.

Not important. He can apologize to the janitors later. What matters is, he’s not jacking it in a bathroom where every surface has been splashed with bodily fluids a dozen times over.

_Still there baby?_ he texts once he’s in the bathroom with the door locked, and Alex must have been watching the phone because it only takes a moment for his phone to buzz with:

Oh, shit, alright then.

John fumbles his cock out of his scrubs and squeezes it, surprised at how hard he is already. His cock bobs a little with the throb of his heart; for a moment, he watches it, imagining Alex’s hand wrapping around it, and as he does, he circles it with his fingers. The ghost of touch makes him ache and he suddenly realizes just how bad he needs to get off. He hikes up his shirt, leans back against the wall, and texts back with his left hand, _yeah? What are you thinking about_

Fuuuuuck.

Those emojis should absolutely not be that sexy. No - it’s not the emojis, it’s the fact that his Alex is at home, touching himself, thinking about John. He wonders if Alex has a toy in, if he’s using the little vibrator that hits his prostate, if he’s working that spot with his fingers. He wonders if Alex is wearing his collar or his cuffs or just laying sprawled on the bed, naked, toyless, rutting into the threadbare cotton sheets and covering them with pre.

It’s not all that easy to type while he’s stroking himself, but he manages to fumble out a response.

_I don’t have a lot of time baby you get me off fast talk me up come on baby girl_

And that just makes him think of Alex, hard and grinding against him. He thinks about Alex’s cock and the way it looks when it’s painfully hard and dripping pre, the way Alex groans when John touches the tip, and even the ghost of that noise in his mind makes him buck into his hand and huff. There’s a thought there worth pursuing - his hand wrapped around both of them, jacking them together, Alex’s hard cock pressed against his. The dribble of pre between them. The thought of Alex coming first, semen dripping down his hand as he moves it fast. Alex moaning with overstimulation. Perfection.

_Yeah what next?_

Alex’s mouth - oh, God, that man knows how to use it. John throws his head back and groans softly, biting down on his lip to keep from letting the sound out. He wants to be fucking Alex’s mouth, not his own hand; he toys with the idea of tying Alex down the moment he’s back from his shift, stuffing his irreverent mouth, choking away the endless cascade of words with his cock. There’s no lube; there’s a drag, a tug that’s almost unpleasant, so he changes the angle of his hand and focuses on stroking his foreskin over the head of his cock. If he puts enough pressure in it, makes a ring of his thumb and forefinger, it feels almost like slipping in and out of Alex’s lips.

He wants to be coming down Alex’s throat, not into the cracked basin in the stall of a bathroom near palliative care.

_So close baby, get me there, come on, send me one more and ill nut_

“Send the peach,” John mutters. He’s close - he’s at the edge and he keeps pulling back. He needs to see what Alex sends before he can spend. “Send the peach, you nasty little slut, send the goddamn peach I swear to God you send the peach and I’m gonna lose it, I’m gonna nut -”

“Fucker,” John gasps, and then his legs are shaking and he spatters the sink with come. A little gets on the mirror; he takes a moment to catch his breath and steady his legs, and then wets a little paper towel under the sink to wipe the mirror.

He cleans up the sink and himself and tucks his cock back into his scrubs before texting Alex back.

_Youre a fuckin delinquent. You get off baby?_

_twice_ Alex texts back, and John has to bite down on his hand to distract himself from getting hard again.

_Good. Love you ill text you on my half_

John slips his phone away and checks himself out in the mirror. His face is a little flushed, but the freckles do a good job of masking that. He adjusts the neat ponytail his hair is in, checks the sink for any missed spots of come, and then unlocks the door and leaves.

On his way back down to emerg, he grabs a chocolate bar from the vending machine and practically inhales it.

He deserves it.

**Author's Note:**

> im not even going to pretend this is art. blah blah kudos comments self-deprecating joke [this is my tumblr](http://alexangery.tumblr.com) hope you liked the sin


End file.
